Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 77961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Of course, sir.” Fighting a laugh, I envelop the tip with my mouth. His skin is smooth against my tongue. I wrap my fingers around the base and start sliding them up and down.
“Oh fuck, yeah. Just what I wanted.” He slides a little deeper in the chair and closes his eyes.
I play with the head, tracing its outline with my tongue and loving how he moans when I find his special spots, like along the ridge, or that point right underneath the tip. I might be providing the service, but right now I'm the one in control.
Shrapnel kneels behind me and kisses my neck. He slides his tongue behind my ear, then traces the lobe with a feather's touch. It's hot, and very distracting. “Let's get this off you,” he growls so close that I get goosebumps. I expect him to pull down my panties, or slide my blazer off, but the first thing he takes is my scarf, unknotting it gently and then covering my eyes with it. “Okay?”
I can't really speak with my mouth full, but I manage to nod. I've never played this kind of game before, but I'm eager to try.
He folds the scarf over a couple of times, then knots it at the back of my head. I can't see a thing, completely in their mercy. It's both exciting and a little disquieting, but I force myself to relax. I trust them.
A hand slides into my hair, guiding me back onto Diesel's cock. I think it's Diesel himself, but I don't know and not knowing adds a whole different dimension to this. Someone tugs my skirt up to my waist, followed by a deeply hissed, “Niiiice,” when Bull discovers my mostly transparent panties. Thick fingertips trace my lower lips through the thin material, the smooth fabric letting them glide easily. I moan, and then Diesel moans. God, this is hot.
A button pops on my blazer, and then the second one, before my arms are pulled backwards to slip it off. It disappears, followed by a soft flutter as it lands on one of the chairs.
I'm pretty sure it's Bull stroking my pussy the way he knows I like, and I'm almost positive it's Diesel who's got my hair. Bull makes me gasp with a clever touch, and Diesel's quick to pull me right back down, guiding my head into a steady rhythm. I try to maintain it even when he loosens his grip.
My blouse is next, button by button, until it falls open. Immediately, hands cup my breasts over my lacy bra. Just Shrapnel? Shrapnell and Bull? Maybe Diesel is leaning in and helping? I can't really tell. Just hands, teasing my nipples that are pushing out the fabric. All of the sensations are distinct, but they make one mysterious whole.
This time, when they pull my arms back to pull my blouse off, they stop at my wrists. There's a chuckle that's definitely Shrapnel when they use it to tie them together, locking my arms behind my back. It pushes my breasts forwards into their clever hands. Now I'm truly helpless, and I never expected that to be a sensation that would get my motor running, or rubbing my thighs together around Bull's fingers, but it does.
Without my hands to help, it’s harder to go down on Diesel, to capture all of him between my lips. Not that I'll ever be able to take the whole thing, but I do my best, and he groans when he butts up against the entrance to my throat and I have to pull away. “So fucking good,” he hisses as I slide back down on him.
My bra goes suddenly slack, giving the hands full access to my bare breasts. Sparks of pure pleasure surge from my hard nipples straight down to my core, as they're teased and pinched. I melt between my invisible lovers, as they do whatever they want to me. I never know what's next, as they keep me on edge as they touch my thighs, my sides, my throat, my ass, my calves, my everywhere.
Diesel lets go, and then someone else pulls me off him and turns my head. Another cock slides into my mouth, flavored with—oh my God, if Dad knew how we were handling his expensive whiskey, he'd kill us. It adds a whole special kind of flavor to what has to be Shrapnel's cock, with just a hint of that hard alcohol burn as it slides down my throat. His grip tightens, and he flexes his hips as he pulls me onto him. Definitely Shrapnel. Especially when I hear his groan above me. “I love your mouth. Fuck, I love all of you. You make me so goddamn hard.”
I was clever enough to put my panties on over the garters, so when someone—probably Bull—tugs at them, they slide down my hips easily, at least to my knees. Then I'm pulled to my feet, my panties tugged the rest of the way down, and they turn me around until I have no idea who's where or even where I am anymore. I'm bent over the soft leather arm of the fancy airplane chair with my breasts resting on the other side, and then a thick cock is pushed into me. Bare. That's the only way we do it now and God, it feels so good. I'm so slick, he glides all the way in with a single thrust that has me crying out.